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CHRrSTMAS CAROLS. 



Christmas chiming from the valley, 
Christmas chiming from the mountain, 
Echoing o'er the frozen fountain, 
Through the verdant pine tree alley j 
Christ has come to us from Heaven, 
CrOD, His Son to man has given I 
Christe Eleyson I 



Snow is falling — wildly falling— 

In a gay fantastic round, 

O'er the icy frozen ground, 

Swiftly flying thro* the air; 
Whirl-winds floating, flying, racing, 
Eddies floatmg, flying, chasing, 

Through the frosty, misty air. 
Every hill in white arrayed, 
Every tree in white arrayed, 

*Tis as if the world had prayed 

To put on mourning in that season, 

For that short and hallow'd season, 
Ere the old year passed away. 

rioweth on the tide of battle 
Of the elements of the sky; 

From the loud and fiery rattle, 

Of the fierce and angry battle, 
& 



To a faint and healfing B\g% 
Of the elements of the sky. 

Snow is falling — gently falling — 
Thro' the icy breath of night; 
Covering motinds up in the grave-yard; 
Covering tombs up in the church-yard 

To the traveller a safeguard^ 

If there be one out to-night. 
Snow is falhng on the dwelling 

Where the poor and good abide, 
Falling on the sin and sorrow, 
Striving gOod and bad to hide* 

Still it falls ^unceasingly; 
Falling on the farmers cottage, 
Maiden's youth, and old man's dotage} 

Still it falls unceasingly, 

Striving ev.er all to hide. 

Snow is falling— gently falling-— 
On the roof of rich and poor; 

On the ancient time-worn castle 

Shaking with its wintery moan 
Every casement with a rattle; 

Still it falleth ever on! 
6 



Still It Cometh ever down, 
Covering even time's immortal 
Echo of the distant portal, 

In the grey of Heaven's dome, 
Still it Cometh ever down. 
Snow is falhng on the ocean, 

On the cold and wintr'y ocean, 
With a weary mournful motion; 
And the storm — the wintr'y storm — 
Wilh a wild and wailing shriek 
From the mountains cragged peak 
In a solemn icy column flows along j 
Falling on the vessels deck, 
Covering rope, and sail and spar, 
Coming downward fi'om afar 
Thro' the cloudy, frosty night. 
Falleth — falleth on forever; 
And the sailors on the sea, 
While the snow falleth on 
In its steady monotone 
Pray to God — ^bend the knee 
In the dread immensity 
Of the cold — lone storm. 

Snow is floating down from Heaven, 

7 



Resting on the lonely earth; 
Winding 'neath the ancient pine trees, 
'JSTeath the old and spreading lime trees^ 

And the ancient sycamore, 

With a dull and distant roar. 
Thro' the swelling of the storm, 
Joyously is borne along, 

From the village in the valley, 

From the old bell in the vaJley, 
A sweet and home-hke chune; 

Rising in a cheerful echo. 
Like some old and well known rhyme, 

From the old bell down below. 
It is ringing in a blessing 

On the newly hallow'd earth; 
On the heaving wind 'tis passing 

O'er the calmly sleeping earth, 
With a hope of future cheer 
To the young and new born yeat. 

Snow is falluig — gently falling — 
On the dark unbroken forest 
On the white and ghttermg hoar-frost, 

On fountain and on rivulet 

A graceful shadow seems to flit. 

S 



*Tis the snow — gentle snow— 

With a white sepulchral flow, 

Resting on the water fall, 

Wreathing glories over all; 

Still it falleth ever on ! 

Still it cometh ever down. 

Snow is falling — gently falling— 
From the purple vaults of night, 
Gleaming with a silver light 

In its soft and silent way, 

Peaceful as a child to slumber, 
Falling downward without number, 

Kest the flakes so trustingly. 
In the enfolding arms of night; 

Earth so sweetly gently holds them, 

To her bosom now she folds them 
With a pressure — and a sigh 

Seems to swell up from her bosom, 

As a wail just passeth by; 
'Tis the sighing of the trees, 
'Tis the swaying of the trees, 
Of the old and solemn trees. 

Snow is falling on the river — 

9 



On the dark and icy river— 

With a cold and death-like flow 5 
With a slow and mournful shiver, 

Heaving gently to and fro ; 
Still it falls unceasingly I 

Still the symphony goes on ! 
'Tis the sighing of the branches, 
As the ancient music launches 

Forth upon the sleeping earth; 
Heaven's music riseth falleth, 
Heaven's echo riseth falleth, 
Heaven's angel gently calleth, 

In the tones of merry cheer; 
^Tis the music of the storm, 
As it gently flows along, 

'Tis the birth of the New- Year. 

Snow is falling — gently fallmg— 
On the silent wearied city, 
Falling ever in its pity, 

Striving ever all to hide. 
Still it falls unceasingly ! 

With its misty silent tide ; 

With its white and flowing tide ; 
10 



Downward ever still 'tis falling, 
From the starless, murky, sky. 
Gently falleth, trustingly. 

J'alling on the good and bad, 

On the happy and the sad. 

On the fading and the dying, 

On the hoping and the trying; 
Soothing every mortals sorrow, 
Making them forget the morrow. 

While the snow falleth on, 

In its joyous baritone 

On the mourning and the weary, 
Driving from it all the dreary, 
Dreary grief with its gentle gentle flow. 

Snow is falling — slowly, lightly — . 

And the New- Yearns day is dawning ! 

In the east there comes the morning, 

Welcoming in the New- Year's day. 

Snow is falling, flake by fiake, 
As the morning's light is seen, 
And the day begins to break 
O'er the glad and cheerful scene; 
O'er the shining silver sheen 
11 



Of the wavy fallen snow, 

And a voice to Heaven ascends- 

To the Father's throne it wends 

Its way in trustfulness — 
Asking for this New- Year 
Nothing but hope and cheer, 
Nothing of doubt and fear, 

But all of happiness. 



12 



!5u ftr^ 5^5 pm onu 



How cold it is in the sitting room I 
A feeling of cheerlessness and gloom, 
A wish for the warm air over all, 
It shades the house like a gloomy pall; 
It drives the blood from my heart away, 
It makes my lips grow cold as clay; 
There^s a tinge of blue upon fingers and face, 
For the fire's gone out in the chimney place. 

The sorrows of years have come to me, 
As the hoar-frost rocks the gigantic tree, 
The age of love and hope and pride, 
The age of longing and faith has died, 
And I look up to the light on high. 
Every hour it draweth nigh. 
The Mght and beauty has left my face. 
For the fire is out in the chimney place. 

I am so weary of earthly ills, 
Weary of earth rising sickening chills, 
Of the care, the sorrow, that I must bear, 
Weary of life and life's dull care; 
13 



Weary of meeting day after day 
The same heart-burnings every way 5 
Weary of seeing the wheat and tare 
Choking each other every where. 

And I've no home to receive me now, 
No gentle hand to caress my brow; 
The shades of death have darkened it, 
The ravens upon its rafters sit; — 
And the wind moans drearily thro' the door, 
Where I shall be greeted; oh, nevermore — 
And life is gone, 'tis sad, sad truth 
The fire is out in the home of my youth; 

And I wait in grief the sad year thro', 
Striving to do the right and true, 
Striving to conquer the dull despair 
That is eating out my heart with care, 
Striving to stay the murmur at fate, 
Striving to enter the narrow gate, 
Striving to feel that I'm not alone ; 
But the fire ia out in my heart of stone. 

Now a light breaks thro' the shades of life, 
A partmg of all the elements of strife, 
14 



A trust in God and a hope in him, 
A lightening of vapor once so dim, 
A trial between my gnardian fays — 
Wishes for brighter and happier days— 
A release from sorrow and grief and pain; 
Tor the hght of hope is rekindled again. 



^m ani ^5^n» 



Two lovers stood by the side of a stream, 
Dreaming together Love's sweet dream; 

Hand in hand alone; 
Love's sweet music — wondrous and rare— 
Id rich cadences was filling the air, 

And the brook flowed on. 

Listening unto the streamlets flow, 
An old man stands with locks of snow; 

Silent and weary and lone; 
Silent and weary with drooping head, 
"While still in its moss grown pebbly bed 

The brook flowed on. 
15 



"Tis but a question of time; 
A year or two — no more — 
Never a sea or clime, 
Or medicine's mighty lore, 
Can keep me now to thee; 
Kever a feeling of pain, 
Or of sorrow comes to me, 
For I will come home again. 

'Tis but a question of time, 
Never a thought of sorrow, 
The love and the faith are mine — 
It may be even to-morrow. 
A few years now at the best, 
Beloved we shall be parted, 
I shall go gently to rest; 
And you will stay broken hearted. 

Tis but a question of time; 
One of God's grain needs reaping, 
Near the eleventh hour; 
But why should ye be weeping. 
16 



Soon away I am going, — 
Without any hardship or pain— ■ 
The reaping must follow the sowing — 
But I will come home again. 



<l i<iH > 



'a a ^^ith* 



The fields are covered with snow, little bird, 

And chill is the wintry air; 
The brook is still in its icy sheath, 

And the trees are stark and bare. 

The flowers, the fair bright flowers, little bird, 

Withered and dark are they, 
Faded their beauty with summers last smile, 

And their fragrance hath long passed away. 

Fly back to the sunnier land, little bird, 
And when the bright summer shall come. 

When flowers are blooming in natures gkd smile, 
Return to your northern home. 

n 



When God in his etherial wisdom, 
Made the world — he did create it all 
One Summer — and when Adam came 
He found the earth a tedious monotone of smiles^ 
The sky, and air, and every living thing 
Was scorched with heat — the mighty sea 
Upon the unworn rocks combed up 
Its moulten surf — the very deep did seem 
A well of lava — e'en the blood of nature, 
As it flowed o'er beds of gold,a sapphire stream — 
Smoked hot and heavy as a flesh pot; 
But, in the garden where dwelt Adam, 
Lock'd by rivers which did flow from hills 
Of ice beyond— eternal freshness reigned; 
Not the hot breathing of the forest isles 
Were wafted there — but life was all repose, 
And love, and beauty; — all was fresh and still 
In Eden. 

Now the days and years swept by — and year by year 
A change came oe^r the world — the cold crept in 
Her habitations, and tha autumn came. 
And buds did fade and wither, but the forest grew 

18 



More beauteous still. — 'Twas summer still in Eden | 
lu its paradise the red grape grew ripened, 
And fruits gave unto Adam of their increase. 
0''er all the be^ul^v of God reigned — 
His image stamped upon the face of nature — 
His glory pictured in his handiwork. 
Then the temptation came, and then the fall; 
Adam was banished from the garden, 
And the angel with the flaming sword, 
Stood at the portal. — Eden is his no more ; 
For the great wrath of God o'ershadowed all 
And the dread cold grew daily more and more; — 
Then the frail covering of figs did not suffice 
To keep the gloom and darkness from his soul; 
Then winter came, and chill and ice 
Reigned o'er the unhappy world — 
And disobedience was punished^-^but at last 
The all-wise God relented aud forgave the sin of Adam; 
Aod the sun rose up once more in splendor, 
And the sky softened her tints in beauty. 
The broad earth grew beautiful again. 
Then spring-time came — a mighty voice 
Did whisper to each tree and vine> 
Arise shake off thy robe of cold 

19 



And live again. The flowers grew fortli^ 
And leaves and plants burst their ice mantle, 
And light shone like a new glory thro' the sky 
The great God was gloried in his glorious work^ 
And thro' the world their sped 
From every living thing a voice of praise— 
The earth itself grew young and chanted forth 
Its thankfulness for this great blessing — • 
For lifers fittest season—spring. 



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20 



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Bsfore the fire I sit to day, 
Aud muse on scenes that long have flown, 
And friends that from my side have gone; 
The scenes are lifeless — friends are clay. 

At Christmas tide a merry thi-ong 
Were wont to gather round this hearth, 
With sounds of revelry and mirth, 
And joyous hearts aud gleeful song. 

But they are all forever gone; 
A few slight traces still remain, 
Like the last half-mown spears of grain 
In a large cheerless field alone. 

Only a few stray locks of hair, 
Long severed from reposing heads; 
Some interspersed with silver thi'eads, 
And some are radiant and fair. 

The voices that hke muvsic gushed, 
The radiant cheeks, the laughing eyes, 
21 



Each treasure In the dim past h'es; 
Their light is fled their music hushed. 

The grass has grown and faded oft 
Since their warm grasp has met my own, 
Yet still I seem to hear the tone, 
Of merry voices sounding soft. 

And oftentimes I start with pain, 
As walking in the crowded street, 
A glance persuades me that I meet 
Some cherished friend of youth again, 

I weep as one by one to mind, 
Their faces sadly I recall, 
As memory lifts the sable pall 

From the dun vista fai* behind. 

» 

Earnest and long on me they gaze, 
With tearful and imploring eyes 
As if they wished me to arise 
And join their pleasant quiet ways. 

From all the trouble and the strife, 
The weary pain, the weary woe, 



I constant meet where'er I go 
Upon the long dark road of Life, 

They seem my wilh'ng soul to draw 
From this cold earth with all its care, 
Their sweet society to share, 
Upon Eternity's far shore. 



23 



^xoxm to §^a(5* 

She has walked the wliole of the Hvelong clay 
To look for food for her orphan child, 
And her heart grows faint and her eye grows wild 
As the night comes on and her steps gives way, 

The stars are out in the clear blue sky ; 
Oft she has watched them shining there, 
When her step was light and her cheek was fair 
In the pleasant years that have long gone by. 

She has blessed them a thousand times and now 
She will not curse them were she to die; 
And her bosom heaves with a bursting sigh, 
And a moment with fire is flushed her brow. 

Press on, press on, nor stop to recall 
Those scenes of Joy to life and light. 
The present and future aje dark as night, 
But the past is darker far than all. 

She presses her babe to her shivering breast, 
And holds him there in a mute embrace; 

24 



Her wan hands cover his pale cold face, 
And she knows he has fled to a sweeter rest. 

Fallen ! They have fallen to earth at last I 
Mother and child to the pavement cold; 
And the midnight chime their knell hath tolled j 
Misery, Dearth and Hunger are past. 

The rough winds played with her flowing hair, 
And the morning rose with a cloudless sky, 
And the passer shuddered as hurrying by 
He saw the form as it stiffened there. 

Cold and motionless, void of breath, 
Theae they lay in a last embrace, 
Bosom to bosom and face to face, 
Frozen to Death 1 Frozen to Death 1 



25 



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Glory to God on this our Thanksgiving, 
Glory to God for his wonderful name, 
Glory to God for his wonderful giving, 
For the light and the love and the sun and the rain. 
We worship with honest hearts deepest devotion, 
Praising for gifts of his might all subhme ; 
Praise with a nations most fervent emotion 
For gifts he will send to the ending of time. 

Glory to God on this our thanksgiving, 
Glory to God for this plenteous year; 
He that hath guarded us in his great given. 
Still He will keep us from doubt and from fear. 
Rising of tempests may battle around us, 
Nations may war with unhallow'd creed; 
He who in danger and misery found us 
He will be with us in every hearts need. 

Glory to God on this our thanksgiving, 
To the worker of all — -in all marvelous ways; 

26 



/■ 

/ 



Homage to Him be ye reverent giving, 
Homage to him as a nations fond praise. 
Give God the praise to him only 'tis due, 
We are treading a narrow and treacherous road^ 
For all he has done unto me and to you 
Lighten the weight of some sufferer's load. 

Glory to God on this our thanksgiving, 
Glory for all the kind deeds he has done, 
Thou dost not see all, oh, thou uubelieving 
t)o these blessings not brighten one after one. 
One after one, with constant endevour, 
God calleth back his own erring child; 
Strange that a mortal should try to dissever 
This love from our paradise once so defiled. 

Glory to God on this our thanksgiving, 
He has been with us the long long year thro', 
Pray in the depths of our honest believing 
He may be by us another year too! 
Give God the Glory — be ever addressing 
The source of all good — the great i'atl er sublime \ 
Upon that dear faith will we ever be resting, 
'Till we are no more — at the ending of time. 

2t 



onq 



Par away in a distant clime 
Where the vines o'er the hills are creeping, 
Where the gulden sunlight purples the grape, 
The fairest of maids lies sleeping. 
Cruel fate tore her away from my side, 
W^hen the star of hope grew brightest, 
Sorrow came brooding gloomy and black 
Like a cloud, when my heart was lightest. 

Why do I mourn ? There's a brighter land 

Where the fairest of beings are dwelling; 

She is there looking down with her old sweet smile 

And her happiness seems to be telling. 

I go ; to leave the world with its cares. 

Its wretchedness and its sorrow, 

I go to be clasped in a fond embrace, 

And awake to a glad to-morrow. 



28 



^ax ^[[mnn. 



A monafch is laying him down to die, 
From bis careworn brow he lifts his crow»', 

And without a murmur, without a sigh, 
He lays the regal bauble down. 

Weary of Life and longing for Death, 

Heavily on his couch he lies, 
Wearily comes his wasting breath^=- 

Closing fast are his languid eyes. 

In the vacant streets lies the virgin snoW, 
And the city is lost in a tranquil sleep, 

And naught but the river's distant flow 
Is heard as it surges mighty and deep. 

Would our hearts if we asked them, long to be 
Where He passeth lonely away to-night, 

On the silent shore of the mystic sea. 
Afar from sorrow and care and bligjht ? 
29 



Hiifk ! The midiiiglit chime beg^ius, 

Oil the in'ght the echoes swell- 
Christ forgive us all our sins — 

'Tis the old yearns funeral knell. 

A spirit floats out ou the night, 

With wan hands crossed on a shrouded breast; 
Silent and spectral, still and white, — 

Trouble it not— it is going to rest. 

Monks are passing along below, 

Hooded and dark with solemn tread; 

Chaunting an anthem weird and slow; 
Chaunting an anthem for the dead. 

Pax ilhscum ; rest his soul ; 

He at last has reached his goal, 
On that distant unknown shorej 

Pax illiscum; evermore. 

Distant music is heard afar 

Swelling in symphonies deep and grand/ 
A royal infant crowned with a star, 

Heads a radiant shining band. 
30 



Lo! Frora the deep iinknowi> there spring;.*?, 
Time's latest off-spring the Youug*Xe\v-Year | 

A hiughiiig child with lightsome wings, 

And he crosses himself o'er the old man's bier. 

Soft are the echoes that die a war; 

Sweet are the strains that swell afar; 
Brightly amid the dim clouds grey, 

Shineth the glorv of vouder star, 

Come, O, my friends, the night wanes fast, 
And the Xew- Year shines o'er fields of suoW) 

And over the dreary drifts of the past, 
Hope sheds a radiant heavenly glow* 



31 



^oumF^tr, 



How desolate the moorland lies I 
The tall trees waving in the skies, 
Shorn of their leafy covering ; 
^yhiie above the grey gull hovering, 
Screaming forth dull notes of pain, 
Which dying out, in echo comes again. 
The buisy tramp of men is gone; 
The earth seems desolate and lone. 
The dull deep roar of the appealing woods 
Fills all — into our heart intrudes 
Its dull inanity: and frozen all, 
Locked up in death's embrace, a pall 
Rests on the world ; — ice is a dreary thing, 
I pray to Grod the advent of the spring I 



32 



Oolden-h aired autumn has fled at thy coming ! 
Skies blush with kisses the sun gives no more, 
The song of the robin the wood-peckers drumiag, 
Comes faintly and low from the warm southern shore. 

The call of the sea bird, the gull and the swallow, 

The voice of the bittern, the cry of the mew 

Are echoing harshly, so dreary and hollow. 

From the vale and the woodland and sea-meadow too. 

The dark ocean rocks with its limitless roar; 
They spray flings aloof its grey misty foam ; 
And thro' the thick fog that lies skirting the shore, 
The curleu shrieks forth its wild wearisome tone. 

The flight of the eagle is low, and his young 
Are seized by the wolf in his ravenous prowl; 
The voice of the day is stilled, hushed is its song; — 
And the voice of night is the screach of the owl. 

Blithe-crested autumn has fled at thy coming! 

Skies blush with kisses the sun gives no more, 

Dark and desponding, December is coming — ■ 

The days of the dying the tomb of the year. 

33 



Mnwati* 



Onward fly onward oh time in your track, 
la the race never falter or doubting look back, 
Let me never remember the days that are past, — •- 
On, onward with beating heart onward and fast ! 
The tear jf deep sorrow, the penitant pnayer, 
The sigh of the stricken of heart broken care, 
Hide all from me while I strive of the track. 
And oh, may I never with faint heart look back ! 

Oh vanish the past let the future abide, 

Tho' we know not what evil or good may betide, 

Where the grand voices echo from realms all unknown 

To the chant of the pilgrim in silvery tone. 

On, onward and upward with counsel within, 

liife has her triumphs for those who will win ; 

Onward fly onward oh time on thy track 

In the race never falter or doubting look back. 

Oh visions of wisdom— the cheek of the seer 
Glows with proud pity his eye with a tear— • 

34 



In halos of glory tlie future shines forth, 

As the lightumgs of heaven gleam out in the Xorth, 

He sees in the distance the granduer to come, 

Tis the shadows of Heaven that long-hoped for home, 

Oh beckon me on while I strive on the track — 

And oh may I never ^vith faint heart look back. 

Oh never look back for tlie present is fair, 
Fau'er than aught that the future can beai*, 
Oh, joy be to us that we live in a day 
When the pa^t and its missions vanish away ; 
TVhen the light of great reason from spiritfnl lands, 
Is weaving earth glories with mystical hands ; 
Oh joy be to us that we dwell in a realm 
"With angels for counsel and Faith at the helm. 

Oh never look back the present is rife. 
With all that maketh as happy in life, 
The past is all sealed and faided and dead — 
8he has faded away in her snow covered bed ; 
And the hght of the sun vAxh. its mystical ray 
Shines down from her hight in a becoming way, 
It calleth us on to the end — calleth on — 
Tiil_we reach wan and weary the long hoped fur boiu-ne, 

35 



In the splendor of the Autumn, neath a giant beech and 

olden, ^c /(' .; ; i-*' tf=^ * 

When the forest leaves ar^urning dusky, red and golden. 

At our feet the babbling streamlet ever murmured forth 

its story, ^.' .-• ,, , 

Told of noble deeds and worthy, love, and fame and glory. 

And the oak tree tall and stately, and the elm tree gent- 
ly swaying. 

And the willow softly sweeping, heard what we were 
saying. 

Words of love fell soft as music, and the streamlet bub- 
bling proudly, ^.,,^ ^ 
Told the tale to rock and liUies, — told the storv proudly. — 

Thou art mine, mine own, my beauty, thou art mine for- 
ever. 

And the strono: love-tie that binds us nought but death 
can sever, 

/v. 

Streams have scarred the ancient oak tree, snows have 
blighted the wild heather, 
36 



Ice has bound the merry streamlet were we sat^together. 

As the dreary Autumn twihght scenes that long ago 1 

cherished, 
Rise before me still and ghostly — but their their light 
jLf 'ynt. has perished. 

Voices in the air around me whisper with the trees low 
sighing, .,;^, - 

And the dead leaves slowly falhng with the Autumn, dy 
' ing. 

Fve heard them, often heard^ them but one voice my soul 

has haunted, ^ , 

Rising clear above the others — one sad song is chaunted. 

Leaves have fallen — winds aje wailing, o'er the hill-side 

and the meadow, 
Falls the sable pall of winter, light gives place to shadow. 



3T 



Labor is honor and worship thanksgiving ! 

Glory to God for his wonderful name, 
Glorv to God for his wonderful giving, 

For the light, and the love, and the sun, and the rain- 
Thro' fairy chancels of oak leaf and clover, 

God with his mystic voice whispers divine ; 
The^dew and the sunshine the mighty world over 

Are given to labor — the fruit of the vine. 

Labor is honor and praise, adoration ! 

Glory to God for the days that are gone ; 
Labor for him 'tis a wide world's hbation, — 

Labor to sever the fig from the thorn. 
Thro' aisles of story in barberous ages, 

Shrine of the great and the lost we deplore, 
Read of the past in the marvellous pages — 

Of history — the light and the reasons of lore. 

Labor is honor — the good that thou doeth I 

Shall be a libation to heavenly love ; 
The wounds that thou healeth, the seed that thou soweth 

Shall all be a recompense for thee above. 

38 



Tis not the labor that honors thy dwelling, 
'Tis but the spirit thou doest it in, — 

Angels are harking — ye earth's mission telling, 
The secrets of life in thy warm heart within. 

Labor is honor — the corn-field and meadow 

Echo God's praise from the bountiful sliore ; 
Labor has kept from our homes the dark shadow 

Labor is keeping the wolf from the door. 
Labor is ever unchanging unceasing 

Giving to God the just praise that is due, 
From sorrow and care it is ever releasing ; 

Labor is happy for labor is true. 

Labor is honor— the soul of a mortal 

Striving with demons the hold of his own ; — ■ 
Up the dark road and to enter the portal, 

Ahead of his fellows to enter alone. 
Commerce and art with their kindred relations ; 

The labor of heart and the trumpth of mind, 
The praise of a few, the rejoicing of nations ; 

The love and the honor each good of its kind. 

Labor is honor — the fettered and freeman 
Knoweth its value more priceless than gold ; 



Labor is honor the landsman and seaman' 
Lesteth wherever Hfes story is t^ld. — 

Labor is hallo vv'd the good God has told us, 
From the sinning of Adam of old until now, 

That the bonds of steam labor must ever enfold us ^ 
" Bread shall thou eat by the sweat of thy brow.'^ 



^on0 of t5^ ^^om* 

Brightly as onward I move, 
Falls on the Castle's wall my ligbt, 
Falls on the cottage thatch as bright, 

Soft as the smile of love. 

Resteth my blessing on all, 
Far over meadow and woodland and sea. 
Beggar and prince are alike to me, 

Hovel and stately hall. 

Centuries, ages roll on, 
Still do I keep my radient way, 
Casting on sorrow a cheering ray, 

When the hope of love is gone. 
40 



\ 



I^aitli is trust ? a sturdy will, 
That will ever struggle on ; 

Looking ever up the hill, 

Towards the ever distant bourne, 

Faith is trath, no word of cavil 

Can its holy virtue check • 
Kever heeding all life's evil, 

Through the storm of life's sad wreck. 

Faith is love — a life's emotiom, 
Love of God and love to man, 

Of an honest heart's devotion ; 

Who, through life does W;hat he can. 

Faith is hope, eternal soitow, 

Xe'er can check it ne'er deplore ; 
Looking ever to the morrow, 
Something better somethiug more. 

Faith is freedom tempered ever, 

By the world through which we go, 

While we're passmg down the river 
To the mystic vale below. 
41 



^oU^fxom i5c 5^ffo o\^afjU^mf 



Starry night is falling' gently 

Over the hills of Bethlehem I 
Angel voices whisper gently 

Over the hills of Bethlehem ! 

Mingling with the joyous murmur, 

Of the villages of Bethlehem; 

And the angel voices whisper, — 

Holy lay, 

* Jesus our saviour's born to day 1 

Blessed Christmas night hallow'd thou'lt ever bel 

Upon the hills of Bethelem 
We prayerfully bend the knee. 

Upon the hills of Bethlehem, 
Man was redeemed by Thee. 

Blessed christmas night — voices still whisper; 
Gently say, 
'Jesus our savior's born to-day !' 

T'was on this night that long ago he came, 
Ou these dear hills of Bethlehem ; 
42 



There with his holy name 

Hallowed the liills of Bethlehem ; 
The same as in the olden time. 

Stand those dear hills of Bethlehem 
And as of old the voices whisper,— 

Holy lay, 
'Jesus our saviour's boru to-day !' 



^mkn of a ^tg?. 



What a world of bitter waiting, 
What a world of tender greeting, 
It could tell ! 

What prayer, and fear, and sorrow, 
What longing for the morrow, 
It could tell ! 

What griefs, and hearts most broken, 
What love and grief unspoken, 
It could tell ! 
43 



Wliat misery and wretchedness, 
What longing for true blessedness, 
It could tell ! 

What triumph and what failing, 
What brightening and what paling, 
It could tell ! 

What deep font of recollection 
Beyond humanity's expression 
It could tell ! 

Of the long-forgotten pleasure, 
Of the heart's securest treasure, 
It could tell I 



44 



«/ r ^ro-^ ^^^t (^flLif^ 



The icicles hang on the outer wall, 

And the wind mourns thro' the snow; 
Within the hght on the Christmas hall 

Lends to all a cheerful glow. 
The poor ones cluster in the street, 

And look thro' the frosted pane, 
A sight of splendor their visions greet 

As they never may see again. 

CHORUS. 

Kow a blessing on all and a season of cheer; 
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Yearl 

Let the poor enter for once to night, 

And sing in the Christmas hall, 
Let us G:ather our brothers around the lisrht 

Of the bright Christmas festival; 
Join hands ye brothers — oh never oTieve, 

Rejoice that a Kixg is born 
45 



(This IS our Holy Christmas efe/ 
And to-morrow is Christmas mom f 
Chorus — Now a blessing on all^ &C/ 

Wave the holly round the hall, 
Let no man sorrow or grieve, 

*Tis the uight of the Christmas festival 
'Tis the Holy Christmas eve; 

Join hands my brothers round the boards 
We will by the elfin's leave 

Give to-night to the poor onr hand, 

. On this Holy Christmas eve. 

CnoRtJS— =XoW a blessing on all, &c. 

Sing of the glories of Christmas time; 

Oh friends the holly Wave; 
Do ye not hear the Christmas chime, 

On this our Christmas eve? 
Sing merrily oh ye dancing light, 

Rejoice that a Kin*g is born; 
For this is our holy Christmas night, 

And to-morrow is Christmas morn ! 
Chorus — Now a blessing on all, &Cr 

Rejoice for some work that ye have done' 
46 



1^0 allay some earthly sorroWj 
i'^or the path of duty once begun 

Will not be ended to-morrow. 
And oh a shout at these merry daySj 

The season of bhthesome mirth, 
The time of the year for household lays 

To be chanted over the earth. 

Chorus — Now a blessing on all, &C, 

Fill high my comrades chaunt aloof 

The lays of Christmas time> 
Chaunt till over the chapels roof 

We hear the Christmas chime. 
Then lower the bowl and bend the head, 

Bow to the Christ that's born, 
Bow to the King in the manger bed, 

For to morrow is Christmas morn ! 

Chorus — Now a blessing on all, &c. 

Good night to all dear friends, good night,- 
The moon is shining o'er the snow, 

While thro' its gentle mellow light, 
A welcoming voice doth seem to flowj 

Welcome the coming Christmas day, 
47 



Let never a mortal sorrow; 
Chauot a welcome and wreathe the bay, 
And welcome the Christmas morrow. 

Chorus— Now a blessing on all, &c. 

Good night— the echos die away, 

The good men clasp each other's hands, 
In a most reverent silent way 

They praise the Savior of all lands. 
They are not sad— they do not grieve; 

In Judea a King is born, 
For this is the holy Christmas eve, 

And to-morrow is Christmas morn ! 

CHORUS. 

Now a blessing on all and a season of cheer; 
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New-Year! 



B. A. BEED, PBINTEB. 



